a four lettered word breaks my heart.
it's hazel with a dash of brown,
and flecks of dust.
it's waking up to the sound,
the sound of your breath.
a four lettered word marks my death,
it can be messy and incredible,
or clean and understandable.
either way it goes,
i doubt that you'd care,
for if you didn't before,
i know you never will.
YOU ARE READING
The Diary of a Fallen Girl
PoetryThere is no relief. Only love, And death. *** This is dedicated to everyone who has broken my heart before. Thank you. *** {Highest Ranking: #315 in poetry} {Trigger Warning}
